After Life
by Andrew Joshua Talon
Summary: Updated: Kenpachi Zaraki goes to the church he inspired. The rest of Soul Society is not sure what to make of it.
1. Hitsugaya is Curious

_First of all, I'm not abandoning my other stories… Again. Well, no more than I already have. I just decided to write this after finishing the Soul Society Arc of Bleach. If you haven't seen Bleach up to this point, don't go any further! Major spoilers._

_Plus, if you are offended by Christianity, don't worry-This isn't supposed to convert you. I just think that if people can create anime about homicidal priests fighting vampires and so forth, then it's okay to present a story with God involved. Hate or like it, please review._

After Life

A Bleach Fanfiction by Andrew J. Talon

Disclaimer: Bleach is not, and never will be, mine, nor am I writing this for profit. Thanks.

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It made no sense to Hitsugaya Toushiro. Absolutely none.

He'd heard about it from a few shinigami, in the wake of Aizen, Gin, and Tousen's betrayal. Among the detachment of Division 4 workers repairing his own division's headquarters, a few mentions of the organization had reached his ears. The strange, almost ludicrous notion, had stayed stuck in his head ever since that day.

It wasn't helped when Yamamoto-soutaichou brought up the fact that several members of the group in question had organized several aid packages of food, clothing, and medicine for the shinigami. Jindanbo had happily conveyed the supplies from the people through the gate, that were accompanied by cards and letters to various shinigami the members of the organization either knew or heard were injured.

Certainly, such sentiments and actions were welcome. There were few large community organizations in Soul Society anyway, aside from criminal ones, and one that had worked prodigiously to support Seireitei, even in such small ways, was admirable.

However, the white-haired captain could not really wrap his head around the concept of the organization.

The building was fairly large, and on the outskirts of the 35th District of Rukongai. Several homes surrounded it, as various people walked about or sat in the shade of trees. Old man played shogi or chess, women laughed and gossiped, children ran about happily. It was idyllic… Considering that the district in question, while not the slums, was no District 1.

He looked up at the simple painted sign above the double doors: _Rusted Sword Church._

Hitsugaya fidgeted. _Why am I so nervous?_

"Yo, Shinigami-san!" The boy blinked, and turned around. He instantly chided himself for giving up his cover, as a stocky, older man with graying hair walks up. He's wearing what appear to be brown robes, tied with cheap rope. The old man gives the boy a smile.

"How did you…?" The captain began, before the old man shrugged.

"You don't exactly blend into the crowd… Hitsugaya, was it?" The white-haired shinigami blinked… Before sighing heavily.

"Right…"

"Come in?" The old man gestures, pointing to the church. Hitsugaya nods, and follows as the old man takes the lead up the dirt path to the building.

After passing through a stuffy main hall with chairs, pillows, and couches all arranged in rows in front of a hand-crafted podium covered in dents, they find a small office. Scrolls, books, and pens cover the desk and bookshelf, as well as the two chairs. Gracefully, the pastor organizes the various office supplies and clears space for both to sit, which they do.

Hitsugaya stares at the human, and the human stares back, slightly over his spectacles. His brown eyes are deep and warm, and for a moment Hitsugaya is reminded of Aizen. The office smells the same-Old paper, ink, a withered flower in a vase by the window.

"Well then… Captain Hitsugaya, what brings you here?" The boy looks back from the windowsill, and frowns. He is unsure of why he's even here… Aside from a question that's been haunting him ever since he heard of this place. These people.

"Why?" The pastor leans back, and studies Hitsugaya. He curses internally for just blurting it out like that, an image of Rangiku giggling forming in his mind.

The pastor hasn't responded. Hitsugaya takes a deep breath.

"Why did you make this church? This isn't Heaven. You haven't passed through any pearly gates. There aren't any angels singing, so why? Why a church? Why… Do you still follow your religion?" Hitsugaya got out, bracing himself mentally for an outraged reply.

The old man, instead, shrugs. He then smiles.

"Why not?"

Hitsugaya felt his jaw hit the floor, as the pastor elaborated.

"I'd say that this counts as eternal life, right? Crossing over here… And there weren't any pearly gates, sure… But so what?" The pastor leaned back. "Did the shinigami create Soul Society? Or Earth?"

"No," Hitsugaya responded automatically. The pastor nodded.

"Then that doesn't prove there isn't a God."

"But why do you still … Follow Him? Even here? Even in death?" The pastor shrugged.

"Eternal life is still life, Hitsugaya-san. Life is rough. It's not easy, and death clearly doesn't make it any easier. Which is why, yes, I started a church when I got here."

Hitsugaya's brow furrowed, as the pastor went on.

"If Jesus had meant for us to simply become Christians so that we went to Heaven when we died, then it wouldn't matter how we lived, right? As long as we're forgiven, we can do whatever we want." The pastor sighed. "The problem with that thinking, of course, is that that isn't what Jesus did. He helped, He healed, He taught, He traveled and made friends… In other words, He _lived._"

"… Being a Christian… Doesn't mean you're prepared for death?" Hitsugaya asked, confused. Admittedly he hadn't had a lot of positive exposure to Christianity when he was alive, but this seemed contradictory to everything he'd heard.

"I didn't say that. Some are, some aren't. We're people just like anyone else, after all," the pastor explained. "Hell, when I got here, I crashed every bar in the district. And then some." Hitsugaya frowned, and the pastor shrugged with a smile.

"After a while though… I thought it over. For a long, _long_ time. I thought about what I had devoted my life to, and wondered if it was worth it to go on if the afterlife was no different from the previous one." Hitsugaya stayed silent, as the pastor closed his eyes and sighed deeply.

"But… I met a man. He was huge, dragging a rusting sword with him as he strode through town one day. At his sides were a bald man and a pretty man. And on his back, was a little pink-haired girl." The pastor smiled fondly. "They went into a bar. Not five minutes later, there was a brawl, and every man in there came out through the walls and windows."

_Zaraki,_ Hitsugaya thought to himself.

"I later watched the man and his companions leave, only with the little girl holding his hand and _giggling,_ looking up at the man as though he were her everything. A child, _laughing,_ in the slums of the afterlife, with a man who looked like a demon. A demon who clearly cared for her." The pastor leaned back once more.

"And I remember thinking to myself, if such wonder, such _love_ can exist here… Then why not God?" The pastor smiled.

"We are not doing this to get into Heaven, Captain Hitsugaya. Rather, we are doing it to bring Heaven wherever we go. Just as that man and his child did for me…"

After that, Hitsugaya felt incredibly disturbed, by the prospect that Zaraki Kenpachi, of all people, inspired a church to be formed in Soul Society. But, the more he thought about it, the more sense it made, as disturbing as it was. Bringing some light into an otherwise dark world was certainly something he could get behind.

When Zaraki found out, rather than going on a bloody rampage as many thought he would, he actually _joined _Rusted Sword Church, and attended services with Yachiru and other members of his Division he dragged along. The fact that the Division remained as violence-happy and rough as before, was an even bigger mystery that finally led Yamamoto to asking Zaraki about it.

The captain just grinned, and headed out, humming a hymn before beating the hell out of a few fresh recruits to his section.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

_That's it, there isn't any more. Tell me what you thought._


	2. Zaraki is Grinning

_Well, just to make sure that no one else whines about a continuation, putting me even more behind on my other projects, here's a sequel to "After Life". It's short, it's funny, and it's twisted. Enjoy!_

After Life

A Bleach Fanfiction by Andrew J. Talon

Disclaimer: Bleach is not, and never will be, mine, nor am I writing this for profit. Thanks.

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Captain Zaraki Kenpachi had been hearing rumors pertaining to him ever since he'd first entered Seireitei. Some of the more amusing ones (to him at least) suggested that he'd originally picked up Yachiru as an emergency food source, or was keeping her until she matured and married her.

Division 11 laughed nearly four days straight at that one and Division 4 had quarantined their barracks in case it was contagious.

So, when he heard about a church being founded with him in mind, Zaraki was understandably willing to just ignore it and consider it another foolish rumor. His men were snickering about it and a few of the braver ones had nicknamed him "Saint Kenpachi".

Yachiru, however, had found it quite fascinating, and had pestered him until he'd finally relented and taken her to the 35th District. She could have gone by herself-She was more than capable of it-but she'd had to drag him there.

And now, here he stood, an old man in brown robes and glasses staring at him in the entrance. Kenpachi stared back. Yachiru had rushed off to play with some of the other kids frolicking about, as her attention span was not suited to awkward staring matches.

The old man smiled.

"Yo."

Kenpachi blinked. _Okay… Wasn't expecting that…_

"Yo," the Eleventh Division Captain responded simply. The old man grinned. Not a vacant sort of grin, like he was seeing an object of worship (a few shinigami, male and female, had taken to him in such a way and it _always_ made him uncomfortable). Nor a strained grin, when one is scared out of their mind. It was rather confusing to Zaraki.

"Ladies made a nice breakfast. Eggs, fish, rice-Want some?"

Kenpachi blinked again. He opened his mouth.

"Got any sake?"

"Yup." Kenpachi shrugged.

"Sure."

Who was he to turn down free booze?

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"Look Ken-chan! Look! It's you! Only this time, I drew you fightin' that one Hollow, remember, with the beak and stuff?" Yachiru cheered, holding up a piece of paper. Zaraki nodded and grinned in his shark-like way, before throwing back another cup of warm sake.

"Add more blood. There was a lot more blood."

"I would, but Uke-kun needed it for a rainbow!" Zaraki snorted.

"Feh. Then take it from that little pansy. Blood's always more important than some sissy rainbow."

"Hai, Ken-chan!" Yachiru bounded away, and Zaraki shook his head. He turned to the old man across the plain wooden table, who was slowly eating his meal in between sips of alchohol. The two were under a tarp strung up in the field behind the church. The sounds and smells of a working kitchen floated out of the back door, and Zaraki indulged in more fried fish, licking his lips.

"Nice kid," the pastor commented. Zaraki smirked.

"She took down that Hollow herself. Ripped it's beak off first, then stabbed it through the face. Shoulda seen its expression." The old man chortled. Zaraki frowned, but shrugged and continued.

"It turns out it was this… Orni-whatever-the-hell… Bird watcher, who'd died losing the chance to capture this rare piece of shit bird. So he stuck around and became one himself." Zaraki shook his head. "Can you believe that shit?"

"You think _that's_ bad," the old man returned. "One of my congregation used to be a Hollow, because he'd died choking on a _chicken bone."_ Zaraki shook his head, grin appearing, as the pastor continued.

"He swore to get revenge on _chicken farmers_ everywhere, so he tried haunting them. _Haunting_ chicken farmers because he choked on a chicken bone!" Zaraki laughed, shaking his head.

"Just for that, I'm going to need more sake."

"Tell me about it," the pastor sighed. He poured from the large jug in the center of the table, refilling their bowls. Zaraki downed his in a single gulp, and grinned as the pastor just sipped.

"So… Heard you started this church after you saw me. Put the fear of God in you, did I?" The pastor shrugged, and sipped his sake again before replying.

"Sort of… I could tell you the whole thing, but something tells me you're not into those kinds of tales."

"Mushy self-discovery crap? Hell no."

"Yeah. So, let's just say you inspired me to get out of my hole, and _really_ look around." The pastor grinned. "Average life span around here is two thousand years. I'm not about to waste it feeling sorry for myself."

"You're preaching," Zaraki sniffed.

"It's my job," the pastor replied. "More sake?"

"Hell yes."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Yachiru waved happily back at the kids, who all waved and shouted goodbye some hours later. Zaraki continued walking, the sun only a little lower than it was before.

"So Ken-chan, what'd you do?" Yachiru asked happily, bouncing up and down on his back.

"Talked to the pastor, had some grub and booze," Zaraki grunted. Yachiru tilted her head thoughtfully.

"They have lots more kids on Sundays! Can we go back then, Ken-chan?" Yachiru asked, smiling sweetly. Zaraki shrugged.

"Sure, why the hell not?"

"Yay!"

Obviously, when Zaraki Kenpachi started going to church, the rumor mill went into overdrive. Some said he was corrupting it from the inside, some said it was a dark, demonic cult devoted to him. When more Eleventh Division members (and a few Division Four members they dragged along) began going, the image of Zaraki Kenpachi, the Demon of Seireitei, singing hymns in Rusted Sword church with the rest of the congregation circulated through word and photograph.

Nobody knew what the hell to make of it, which suited Zaraki just fine. Because none of the rumors could ever get it right.

Zaraki went for four simple reasons. The first was that Yachiru wanted to, and who was he to deny her? She toughened the kids in the Christian community up and she got playmates for those things in her life she liked that didn't involve bloodshed (which were still something of a mystery to Kenpachi for that very lack).

Second, the food and booze were always good. They had a congregational lunch after every service, and the kitchen staff loved their jobs. The huge feasts that started appearing after more shinigami began to show up was proof.

Third, Zaraki of course, would never admit this to anyone, but having a place besides the Eleventh Division where nobody treated him or his subordinates any different was kind of nice. Not that Kenpachi was some sort of Division 4 pussy who couldn't go on if nobody liked him-It was simply a good kind of different. The lack of good fights was soon remedied when more shinigami joined up and began training out back after services and lunch. Of course, with audiences of cheering congregation members these matches were a little more interesting. Though unlike matches in Eleventh Division there was little chance of riots developing. Too bad.

Fourth, and finally… Zaraki was not a scumbag manipulator like Aizen, Ichimaru, or any of those other traitors. But he did enjoy causing the gossips to flap their lips. It was funny as hell in his opinion what crap they came up with, and stunning them speechless when those photos entered circulation was even better.

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_There, happy now?_


End file.
